


Like a Puzzle Piece Completes a Picture

by speakpirate



Category: Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (TV)
Genre: Big Gay Musical Number, F/F, Missing Scene, Time Jump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 04:51:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14394675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speakpirate/pseuds/speakpirate
Summary: The weirdest thing about being with a woman is how not-weird it feels.Valencia and Beth build a relationship during the eight month time jump.





	Like a Puzzle Piece Completes a Picture

**Author's Note:**

> _I have been tinkering with this fic since forever, and have decided that done is better than perfect. Because I think we deserve to see a little bit of the queer love story that unfolded during the eight months that got skipped. And really, who doesn't want a big gay musical number?_

“You’re in a good mood,” Heather observes, as they fold themselves into Pigeon Pose. 

“Am I?” Valencia asks, raising her eyebrows in surprise.

“You’re all smiley. And you totally took a pass on terrorizing Hector over those boater shorts he was wearing.”

Valencia did wake up this morning with a sort of light and floaty feeling in her stomach. She figured maybe it was sympathy nausea or something. But she can feel her the corners of her mouth quirking upward all on their own. Normally she tries to ration her smiles, to prevent laugh lines. 

Out of nowhere, Beth’s chuckle comes to mind. Accompanied by the vision of Beth’s stylishly tousled hair. The warm timbre of Beth’s voice.

_“You’re funny.”_

“I’m funny,” she tells Heather. “I just found out.”

“Okay,” Heather shrugs. “Congrats, I guess.”

Twenty minutes later, they’re done with the prenatal routine. Heather’s rolling up her mat. Valencia’s checking her phone. 

She has a new text.

>Good Morning to my favorite new contact. So great to meet you last night. Follow up soon?

There’s an emoji of Valencia’s contact me pose.

Valencia feels a swooping sensation in her stomach.

She takes a picture of herself in her upcoming events pose and sends it back with a one word reply.

>Dinner?

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You’re so good,” Beth marvels. 

They’re having a late dinner, post-charity gala coup. Beth brought her in at the last minute after the previous event planner was shipped off to rehab. She’s simultaneously exhausted and exhilarated.

“It’s like you were born to do this.”

“And all it took was my ex leaving my best friend at the altar for me to figure it out.”

“That’s quite a career path.”

Valencia smiles. “At least I got something out of the relationship.”

“How long were the two of you together?”

Valencia takes a long sip of wine. “Fifteen years.”

“So you started dating in kindergarten?”

“High school,” Valencia says, tilting her head to the side and beaming. “As long as I was with him, it was like I could hang onto who I was when I was I was sixteen, you know? I didn’t have to think too hard about who I was or what I wanted. I could just stick with the plan for my life that I dreamed up in sixth period study hall. Once we broke up, all of a sudden, I could be anyone.” 

She pauses before continuing, glancing across the table. One of her favorite things about Beth is how she listens with her whole body. She leans forward and maintains eye contact and reacts with a thoughtful nod or a smile when Valencia is talking. 

“Now that I’m single,” she says, running a finger around the base of her wine glass. “I’m discovering new things about myself all the time.” 

“Break ups are the worst,” Beth says. Her voice is full of sympathy, although a smile is playing around the corners of her mouth. “But it sounds like you’re developing a lot of new interests.”

Valencia splays her fingers around the base of the wine glass. 

Beth reaches out and lightly interlocks their fingers. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Attraction,” Rebecca declares. “That’s what determines whether something is, or is not, a defacto date. If you want to jump their bones, date. If you’d rather be at home engaging in a diligent nightly flossing routine, then it is not a date, QED.”

“Enough with the legal mumbo jumbo,” Heather tells her. “Also, you’re wrong. Intent is what makes it a date. Buying tickets ahead of time? Definitely a date.”

“Then there’s the fanciness factor,” Hector adds. “The ballet is black tie. And an event that requires you to dress up is twice as likely to be a date. Statistically speaking.”

“I have to call you out there,” Darryl cuts in. “I think you’re centering the straight male narrative of cis gendered bro fashion.”

“Interesting point,” Hector’s mom interjects. “We’ll be back for more after a word from our sponsors.” 

She queues up a pre-recorded plug for Blue Apron as Paula turns towards Valencia and lets out a low whistle.

“Those heels are what make it a date. No, wait. Maybe it’s the lipstick. Or the smoky eye.”

“The cleavage,” Rebecca says, her eyes popping a little. “Not that I’m leering. Unless you find that empowering. Because your boobs are extremely leer-worthy in a completely-feminist-not-at-all-objectifying way.”

“You should not have come by to borrow that scarf on podcasting day,” Heather remarks.

“Remember when I didn’t have friends?” Valencia asks them. But her comment lacks any real bite. They may be a room full of weirdos, but they’re good hearted supportive weirdos. And it’s impossible to be in a bad mood when she’s absolutely killing it in her black formal gown with a slit up the thigh.

“It’s the hair,” Paula decides. “It’s not sex hair, but it’s want-to-sex hair.”

“I have to go,” Valencia says. “She’s picking me up in twenty minutes.”

“Doesn’t she live on the West Side?” Rebecca asks.

“So, she’s driving all the way over here to get you?” Heather comments.

“Just to take you both downtown for _Giselle_?” Darryl says, raising his eyebrows in a cartoonish way.

“In Los Angeles traffic!” Paula adds.

“It’s a date!” They all shout in unison, as Valencia sweeps towards the door.  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The moon is rising over the ocean, and Valencia and Beth are sitting together on a bench on the Hermosa Beach boardwalk.

There are a couple of night surfers out on the water, but the two of them are mostly alone. The sunset crowd has thinned out to head to dinner or the nearby bars. Beth’s arm is stretched out across the back of the bench, warm and right against the bare skin of Valencia’s shoulders. 

They’ve been hanging out for hours, talking and laughing and never running out of things to say.

“So you’re telling me you’re a self-named woman? You just turned eight and decided not to be Maria anymore?”

“The whole family got together for my birthday, and I counted _twenty-three_ other Marias at the party. My parents made a mistake and I fixed it. I’m not just another Maria in the crowd.”

“You certainly are one of a kind, Valencia Perez. I’ve never met anyone like you before.”

Valencia laughs. “Is that a line?”

Beth gives her a mock hurt look. “I’m completely sincere! Unless it worked for you. Then, sure.”

“Sincerity works for me, actually.”

Beth sits up a little, and runs a finger down the back of Valencia’s neck. Valencia shivers a little, even though it’s a balmy night. She feels like the whole universe has narrowed down to the space between Beth’s body and her own. Everything is distilled down to the force of this hazy pull drawing them together. Beth is grinning, and she smells like sunshine or maybe it’s sunscreen and it doesn’t matter because she’s leaning forward and her eyes are on Valencia’s lips. 

“Can I kiss you?”

“God, yes.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Valencia wakes up to discover one of her legs still wrapped around Beth’s waist. The first thing she sees when she opens her eyes is Beth’s naked back. She disentangles herself carefully, stroking Beth’s face tenderly as she rises and wraps herself in a bed sheet.

The music swells as she slowly twirls around the room, the sheet trailing like a ball gown, as the strains of _Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina_ fill the air.

_It seems so easy_  
It’s almost strange  
When I try to explain how I feel  
That I think I’m in love   
After all of three months. 

_But please believe me_  
You can all see  
The Ice Queen you once knew  
Has melted, my heart is entwined  
In a way that’s entirely new. 

_I had to let it happen_  
A simple exchange  
Couldn’t stay all my life in the dark  
Closeted and afraid 

_So I chose FREEDOM_

_To love who I love, to explore something new._  
Men had never impressed me at all  
I never expected them to. 

[Valencia throws open a pair of French doors leading out to a balcony, festooned with rainbow flag bunting. The entire town is gathered outside, many of them carrying placards of Valencia’s picture from when she was elected Homecoming Queen.]

_Yes, I like girls, West Covina!_  
The truth is I’m out and proud now.  
It’s like a puzzle piece  
Completes a picture  
I have discovered  
I’m here and I’m queer. 

[The crowd takes up the chorus, with Heather and Paula appearing behind her as back up dancers. Rebecca joins them on the balcony, dressed in army fatigues and a Che Guevara hat, chomping on a cigar.]

_Yes, she likes girls, West Covina!  
The truth is she’s out and proud now._

Rebecca: I kissed you at Spyders. I’m not saying it’s all about me or anything, but I totally got this whole lady-loving party started.

Valencia: I love you, Rebecca. But that is not how this happened.

_It’s like a puzzle piece  
Completes a picture_

Rebecca: (looks over her shoulder at Beth, still asleep on the bed) God, she has really nice delts. Is she a rower?

Valencia: (glares meaningfully) 

_She has discovered  
She’s here and she’s queer!_

Rebecca picks up the song, prowling around as she takes up the melody:

_And as for Josh Chan and as for boys_  
This is not about them, not at all  
Who says a love story   
can’t be man free?  
It is malarkey  
A myth of the heteropatriarchy.  
The answer was here all the time  
Love wins! It’s a court guarantee! 

Rebecca: (turns back to Beth) But seriously, her skin is flawless. Like, really smooth and moisturized. 

(She moves a little closer. Valencia blocks her with both arms crossed in front of her chest.)

Valencia: She never went to summer camp. I checked.

(The ensemble outside goes into a reprise of the chorus, as Rebecca huffs outside and swings herself down one of the rainbow flag banners in a half-awkward, half-swashbuckling way. She lands next to White Josh and Darryl, knocking over a very hairy older gentleman in a Speedo who was dancing on the other side of WhiJo.)

_The Ice Queen we once knew_  
Has melted, her heart is entwined  
In a way that’s entirely new. 

Darryl (sounding peeved): You’re flaunting your rebound guy. It’s very rude.

WhiJo (rolling his eyes while doing jazz hands): He’s just a friend. They brought us up from Mexico for the big queer musical number. 

(Bearish looking friend glares at Rebecca as he gets up. She misses a dance step and stomps on his sandal clad foot.)

Bearish Looking Friend: Lady!

(Rebecca steps on his foot again, then runs off. She exits stage left, pursued by a bear.)

Valencia takes the melody back.

_Yes, I like girls, West Covina!_  
The truth is I’m out and proud now.  
It’s like a puzzle piece  
Completes a picture  
I have discovered  
I’m here and I’m queer. 

She stands regally on the balcony, giving them all a queen wave.

_Have I said too much?_  
There’s nothing more I can think of to say to you.  
I’m just a girl who likes girls   
And you still have to bow down to me! 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The weirdest thing about being with a woman is how not-weird it feels.

On nights she’s not doing events, Beth meets up with her after her last yoga class and they go out for dinner and drinks. On nights that she has a party or a corporate function, Beth usually stops by and pitches in. Afterwards they’ll grab take out and head back to Valencia’s apartment, where Beth likes to pamper her a little. Rubbing Valencia’s feet when she takes off her heels. Drawing her a bubble bath. Pouring her a glass of wine.

Maybe the weirdest thing is the way Beth always gives Valencia the full force of her attention. She remembers the names of Valencia’s cousins. She orders the lavender pillow spray that Valencia mentioned reading about in a magazine article. She’s always bringing Valencia little presents. Fancy chocolates. A chunky turquoise bracelet. A pepper plant from the Farmer’s Market. 

They go hiking through Griffith Park. Sign up for salsa dancing lessons together. Get box seats to a Dodgers game, where Valencia actually eats a hot dog and posts a picture on her Instagram.

They’re incredible together, in bed and out. She feels light and floaty whenever she thinks about Beth being her _girlfriend._

“You guys are so adorable, it makes me want to vomit,” Heather tells her.

“You’re pregnant. Everything makes you want to vomit.”

“True,” Heather sighs, resting her elbows on the bar. “But I’d be fine with hearing no more stories about how cute she snores, ‘kay?”

“Oooh, but last night it was just this little gurgle and then -”

“Stop,” Heather protests. “It’s giving me heartburn.”

The weirdest thing about dating Beth is how happy it makes her. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

Beth and Valencia are in the front row, watching their third performance of “Fiddler on the Roof” in as many days. Heather seems to have graduated from basketball under the shirt style pregnancy to full on preggo giantess, but she and Hector are sitting next to them as the crowd breaks into wild applause.

Rebecca is playing Grandma Tzeitel, and she’s the breakout star of the West Covina Summer Theater season. 

Paula hovers nearby with a video camera, a total stage mom. Darryl claps the loudest, is always the first to leap to his feet to kick off a standing ovation. Valencia herself finds herself wiping away a few tears of pride when she sees Rebecca hamming it up while taking her bow. 

“I have to ask you something,” Beth says, in the car afterwards.

Valencia sits up straighter, instinctively alarmed, then relaxes.

She trusts Beth. She loves Beth.

_Loves._

They haven’t said it yet. Fantastical imaginary musical numbers notwithstanding. 

She looks at her girlfriend, drumming on the steering wheel as she sings along with the radio, mangling most of the words to Hayley Kiyoko’s latest song. She reaches a hand over and rumples Beth’s hair.

“Ask me anything.”

“What’s Showgirls-ing?”

“Wait, what?”

“I was in the bathroom, and I heard your friend Paula talking to that Nathaniel guy about Showgirls-ing the woman who plays Chava. And when I came out, Paula asked me if I wanted in on it. I said I’d get back to them, but I’m not sure what it is.”

“Shenanigans,” Valencia says, with a wave of her hand. “Like in the movie Showgirls, when Nomi pushes Cristal down the stairs so she can be the lead dancer. But don’t worry! I’m sure they’re just planning something low level, like locking her in the props room for a performance. Or siphoning her gas to make her too late to go on one night.”

“Siphoning her gas?” Beth says, her eyebrows all the way up to her hairline. “Are you serious?”

“Or it could be something good!” Valencia adds, brightly. “Nathaniel might just pay her a bunch of money to bow out!”

Beth looks a little skeptical. “Uh-huh.”

“But Rebecca would do the same for us. One time, this dudebro spilled Boba on my favorite shirt, and she followed him to the gym and stole his shoes and held them for ransom until he paid for my dry cleaning.”

“Wow,” Beth says, after a minute. “Your friends are low key Sons of Anarchy. Without motorcycles.

“Too scruffy. Paula and Rebecca are more Pretty Little Liars. They sometimes watch old episodes when they need to brainstorm surveillance tactics.”

“Still,” Beth says, smiling now. “It’s all very ride or die.”

“It is,” Valencia agrees. “And you’re officially in now. If Paula offered to let you in on a caper.” 

Beth rests her hand on Valencia’s knee. “Your friends are great. And you’re amazing.”

“You’re pretty amazing yourself.”

“You know, I’ve been in L.A. so long, I got used to how people here treat dating like a game. It’s all about status and power and money. It’s like everyone is auditioning for The Real L Word all the time. But you’re so different. I love how we can spend time together and just be two people building a connection.”

“I love that, too,” Valencia says, “I spent such a long time trying to twist my relationship with Josh into the vision I had for it in my head. When I’m with you - I feel like I can finally relax.”

“That’s a good thing.”

“Not good,” Valencia corrects. “The best.” She feels her heart pounding, the back of her throat going a little dry. She runs her fingers along the back of Beth’s neck and watches a pleasant shiver run down her girlfriend’s spine.

They pull up to a light on East Cameron. The interior of the car is bathed in pink light from the flashing neon sign of a pawn shop. A dog is barking at the bus boy from the Chinese restaurant as he heaves a bag of trash into the dumpster in the alley. 

“I love you,” Valencia says simply. No swelling violins. No big movie scene. The two of them running through the rain or across an airport terminal to embrace. She doesn’t need any of that.

All she needs is Beth, her face happy and certain.

“I love you, too.” 

They kiss for so long that the cars behind them start honking when the light changes. 

A pick up truck revs its engine and swerves around them.

Beth laughs a little as they break apart. She blinks dramatically, as if surfacing from underwater.

“Green means go, right?”

“It does,” Valencia grins, smoothing her clothes back into place. 

The tires squeal as Beth steps on the gas. 

“Where are we going?” Valencia asks. “Your place or mine?”

“Um, we’re going….” Beth says, realizing she just missed the turn for Valencia’s building. “Forward.”

Valencia laughs. She gets humor now. 

She leans over and rests her head on Beth’s shoulder.

“As long as I’m with you, I can’t wait to get there.”


End file.
